Volume 41 ~ 2018
Blue is the the sea
where you take her.
Blue are her loving eyes.
It is the color you see
after you fight. Blue
is when she gets sick
with cancer. It tastes
like the salty sadness
of her tears when
her blue eyes turn grey.
Blue is her laced gown
as she lays to rest.
Blue is the sound
of loved one’s tears
falling down. Blue
is the color you see
when you make your days end.
The morning was still as I strolled to my cousin’s house. Then I saw him, blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes. He was sitting on an old looking porch swing, holding a wolf-like puppy, crying. I walked up and asked him what was wrong.
“I lost a good friend. She had passed away due to overdosing”
“How old was she?” I questioned, concerned.
“She had just turned twelve,” he said, trying not to choke on the tears.
I waited a moment and then asked, “When did she --?”
“A year ago,” he said, interrupting me.
We were silent for a moment.
“Is there something wrong with it?” I asked, gesturing towards the snoring pup.
“No, it’s just the memories,” he said and closed his eyes.
“Will you tell me some?” I sat beside him.
“She just always wanted a husky,” he said, beginning to slouch.
“Hey, can I ask one more question? You don’t have to answer it though.”
He stayed quiet and waited for me to ask.
“Do you know why she did it? Was it an accident or something?” I asked.
It took a second, then began fumbling with a loose thread on the cushion of the swing and buried his face in the puppies fur and cried.
“It was my fault” he mumbled. I hadn’t realized what I was doing until I had found myself hugging him. It felt really nice. I have gone through deaths in my life, but I never thought that he would have opened up like this.
If only my limbs could reach the pines.
I wish I could smell the rose bushes.
If only I could comfort the crying girl
with bitter tears that is leaning on me.
I want to play four square with all the kids,
but I can't. I'm stuck, motionless, except for the breeze.
If only I was young again.
People never used my leaves for shade or my wood for houses.
They cared for me by watering me and trimming my limbs.
But now I’m falling apart, I don’t think that I can live anymore.
In the morning, just before the first train goes by, I lay on the grass and gaze up at the stars. I knew they were going to leave soon because I could see the horizon starting to wake up. I sit, glance to my right, check my watch, and notice that the train is right on time. The stars melt away as the sun swallows them up.
I decide to get up and head home, otherwise Dad is going to kill me, maybe literally. Sometimes, I wish that I could have a typical life. I was left at an orphanage as a baby, but I still don’t understand why he got me. Who would like a baby with creepy red eyes?
I make it back to the house and climb through my bedroom window. I sit on my bed and flinch when my alarm clock starts screaming at me. I guess that means I have to get dressed and head downstairs for training. I bet I’m gonna suck. On my way down the staircase, I decide to get some water.
I head to the kitchen and fill my bottle with ice and water. I glance left and right to see if anyone is around, grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. I head down the hallway with the spoon in one hand, my water bottle in the other, and my phone tucked in my shorts.
I stick the spoon in my mouth, opening the icy metal door. I scan the room and find that nobody is here, so I sit on one of the benches. I get up to set my water down on one of the chairs by the door, and I notice a note; “Briella, I had to go into the office, I think I might be getting a promotion! -Dad." I guess I’m going to start training tomorrow.
I try to open the door, but it doesn’t budge. I cross the room to turn on the lights but they flicker out and I lose my balance and slip, hitting my head and then I see the stars from earlier this morning.